Cultural Technique: Masking
June 2025
This article is part of the Cultural Taxonomy Program.
Masking refers to the practice of covering the face—at minimum, the eyes, and often the entire face—using a form that serves symbolic, cultural, or concealing purposes. In this context, practical protective equipment such as respirators or motorcycle helmets are not considered masks, as their transparent visors do not obscure the face, and their use serves clear functional goals for both creator and wearer. One might argue that a gathering of motorcyclists in full gear bears ritualistic traits akin to a carnival, wherein the display of self takes precedence over function. However, the distinction lies in the intent and effect of the disguise: motorcycle gear represents the wearer, while carnival attire transforms the individual into another persona within the ritual’s performative framework.
An illustrative edge case arises when, for example, someone dresses for Halloween as a bloodied motorcycle accident victim, complete with a visor that conceals the face. In such a case, is the helmet a mask? To maintain conceptual clarity, we might assert that cultural masks must represent or evoke a face. Masking, therefore, entails the deliberate alteration or concealment of the face to convey meaning or adopt a role. Through their design and function, masks relate closely to fashion, both in their potential to express individuality and in their capacity to obscure. However, masks may wield even greater cultural power than clothing, as they allow for the suppression or artificial creation of emotion. Unlike fashion, which evolves with trends, masks within rituals often represent "frozen culture"—archetypes fixed in form and meaning, performed across generations to enact expected ceremonial roles. This communal dimension of masking could be termed “the We in the mask.”
Anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss explored this dynamic by analyzing mask rituals among several Salish-speaking Indigenous groups in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. These groups—inhabiting mainland, coastal, and island territories—share stories about the origin of the Swaivé mask, though their versions differ in sequence or source: in one version, the mask is pulled from the sea; in another, it descends from the sky. Central to Lévi-Strauss’ analysis is the notion of transformation, a theme integral both to the function of masks and the myths surrounding them. Masks facilitate temporary yet profound shifts in identity, often within rituals that mark social transitions—such as coming-of-age ceremonies, seasonal changes, or periods of crisis.
This transformative power reflects a conception of self that is interwoven with community and cosmos, rather than isolated from them. Lévi-Strauss’ structuralist approach identifies dualities—life and death, human and spirit, male and female—that underlie mythological systems and are visually and narratively expressed through masks. These dichotomies appear across cultures and are foundational to human cognition. Masks serve to resolve such tensions, enabling symbolic equilibrium. For example, coastal Indigenous groups often design masks that merge animal and human traits, such as the Swaihwé mask with its fish-like tongue, embodying the interrelation of nature and civilization.
Some masks in these traditions are designed to open and reveal secondary masks within, highlighting a recursive element that elevates masking to a refined cultural technique. This recursive quality echoes philosophical ideas such as Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, suggesting that with each layer of masking, one does not necessarily move closer to truth, but rather enters deeper into constructed realities. Even if one emerges from metaphorical concealment into apparent clarity, the emotions displayed may themselves be performative, unknown even to the performer.
Contemporary research indicates that many such mask rituals have been suppressed or absorbed by monotheistic religious systems. Today, commercialized events like Halloween (rooted in the Celtic festival of Samhain) and the Perchtenlauf (a formerly pagan ritual now incorporated into Catholic tradition) are among the few surviving examples. The perceived power of masks—possibly too unsettling for institutionalized religion—may have contributed to their marginalization. It appears safer, in this view, to deem the divine inscrutable than to attempt to reenact it and risk doctrinal error.
In addition to “the We in the mask,” there exists “the I in the mask.” In this form, the mask becomes a vehicle for personal expression, often drawn from popular culture. The wearer differentiates themselves from dominant cultural narratives, signaling alignment with specific fandoms or subcultures. Modern phenomena such as cosplay exemplify this, with practitioners emphasizing faithful reproduction of character traits, particularly in the context of comic conventions. Companies like The Walt Disney Company recognize that linear storytelling is only one facet of intellectual property. The full cultural and economic potential is realized when audiences engage through imitation, as with a Black Panther mask, or through interactive experiences, as in Disneyland.
Closer to the field of ludology, Live Action Role-Players (LARPers) expand the performative aspect of cosplay by integrating elaborate game mechanics. In some traditions, such as the making of Krampus masks, individuality is preserved even within established ritual forms. Often, the craftsman and the wearer are the same person. In such cases, the mask serves a practical function—namely, to frighten and discipline children—which underscores its continuing utility within cultural practice.
Masking can also be understood in abstract terms. While the cultural mask has been narrowly defined thus far, related practices of bodily modification—such as scarification, armor-like adornments, or cosmetic surgery—represent parallel processes in which nature is transformed into culture. Unlike temporary masks, these modifications are permanent. The degree to which an individual engages in such “unnatural” transformations may reveal either personal expression or social conformity.
Narrative is an almost universal component of masking. Accordingly, masks are more common in performative or immersive games (such as LARP or video games) than in traditional board games. A prominent example in digital media is The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask (2000), in which the protagonist acquires various masks that grant him new abilities. These fall into three categories: functional masks (e.g., the Bomb Mask), cultural masks (e.g., the Zora or Goron masks that confer not just powers but also tribal affiliation), and transformative narrative masks (e.g., Majora’s Mask itself, which eventually reveals an autonomous identity). This progression reflects the deep mythological structures Lévi-Strauss described.
Some contemporary mask artifacts, like a collectible Black Panther mask fixed on a display stand, serve no functional or ritual purpose. Their separation from performative context challenges their classification as true masks. They may be visually complete, but devoid of kinetic or narrative engagement, they remain static objects.
In contrast, video games enable the integration of abilities without physical constraints, allowing cultural narratives to be embedded in gameplay. Traditional social games, by contrast, simulate masking effects through limited physical means—blindfolds in games like “Blind Man’s Bluff,” or concealed roles in games like “Werewolf.” In these, the mask is imagined rather than literal. The concealment becomes symbolic, and authenticity lies in deliberate inauthenticity—an idea echoed in fairy tales where wolves disguise themselves as grandmothers.
A potential development lies in combining the immersive strengths of digital games with the social immediacy of traditional ones. Augmented Reality (AR) could enable participants to perceive literal wolves or cows in games like Werewolf or Blind Man’s Bluff, respectively. Pop culture fans might use temporary virtual avatars as dynamic expressions of identity, offering Generation Z socially non-intrusive ways to signal affiliation.
Ultimately, both Augmented and Virtual Reality present new avenues for masking as a cultural technique. In these environments, masks could transcend visual representation to directly enhance sensory experience—granting enhanced perception or simulating impaired vision. Thus, masks could once again fulfill their cultural role as mediators of identity, perception, and transformation, while expanding into new digital realms.
